


Outrun

by trufflemores



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: 2.06, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, enter zoom, reaction fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:29:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trufflemores/pseuds/trufflemores
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2.06. After Zoom's attack, Barry becomes obsessed with Speed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outrun

**Author's Note:**

> In 1.23 "Fast Enough," Barry travels back in time to save his mother. 
> 
> He reappears in his old bedroom. He can hear the Reverse Flash's attack; it's already in progress. Barry walks up to the open door and looks out into the living room. Two speedsters race around the room. For one brief moment, the scarlet speedster -- Barry Allen -- pauses, shakes his head, and holds up a hand. _Don't do it._
> 
> And Barry shuts the door and lets the event play out as it did the first time.
> 
> Who was that other Barry? Why did he tell Barry _not_ to save his mother? How could he know what would happen if Barry _did_ alter the timeline and save his mother?
> 
> Because he lived it. And that timeline is hell.
> 
> Our Barry has memories of that Other Barry's future. From his college graduation up until his disappearance on April 25, 2024, our Barry experiences visions of his life.
> 
> "Outrun" is about our Barry. But it's also about that Other Barry, too.

Paradoxes haunt Barry's sleep.

When he closes his eyes, he sees them.  Memories that _don't belong to him_.  It's like reading an autobiography written by a stranger.

_You made it._

(Barry's heart pounds as he rushes up to greet them, his dad catching him in a hard hug.  Barry's breathless, exhilarated, even though he doesn't know why he's surprised: of course his parents would make it to his college graduation ceremony, where else would they be?)

 _Wouldn't miss it for a little car trouble, would we?_ (Henry grins, ruffling his hair, and Barry feels overwhelmed with satisfaction.  He's _so happy_  that they're here.  He doesn't know why he has an unsettling sense that Dad  _wouldn't_ be there for any reason.  But before he can chase that line of thought to a cell and a wrongful conviction, his dad lets go and he sees  _Mom._ )

(She steps in and hugs him.)   _Sorry we're late_.  (She smells like her perfume, an indefinable fragrance, like flowers but sweeter, stardust-y, comforting.)

(Barry laughs.)  _It's okay._ (He shouldn't be crying: they're not going away – they  _made_ it – and he's graduating college.  They have so much to celebrate; why is he crying?)  _You're just in time_. (It's not a lie: the ceremony _is_ underway, but the introductions are unimportant, immemorable.)

 _We should find our seats_. (Mom lets him go and he tries to hold on, silencing the urge to plead,  _Mom, please, don't go_.  He knows she's right: the field is getting crowded, they need to find seats.  Others will notice Barry's absence if they call his name and he isn't ready to accept his diploma. He has to leave them, but they won't _leave him_.  They came all this way.  They will be there to hug him again as soon as he walks off the stage.)

 _You make us so proud_. (Dad has always had a gift for making him cry without even trying to.  There's something desperate and important, something _vital_  about the way he catches Barry in one last hug.)  _Go get 'em, slugger._

(During the ceremony, he looks back at their stand; he can't take his eyes of them.  Hungry for their presence, needing it more than he needs his degree.  More than he needs a career, more than he needs  _anything_.)

(The dean calls his name and he walks across the lawn, up the steps, onto the stage.  The woodwork under his feet is solid; a summer breeze ruffles his cap.  He's aware of all of it: a murmuring crowd, a pounding heart, a thrilling sense of triumph.  The actual paper degree sends a delighted shiver down his spine.  He made it this far _and_ he's almost top of his class.  He's going to be _so great._ He's got such a bright future ahead of him.)

 _All right, Allens.  One for the album._  (Offstage, Joe holds up a camera, grinning.  Barry smiles back, even if there's a strange feeling in his chest.  Like he's supposed to remember something.  He can't grasp it, only aware of the warmth of his gown, his parents' arms around his back, the flash of the camera-)

. o .

Barry gasps, lunging upright, taking in his surroundings: bedroom, home, night.  A hand finds his chest and sinks into the fabric of his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline.  God, it was so _real_.  His chest aches; he wonders if it's possible to die from a broken heart.  ( _O_ _f course it is_ ).  Because the  _idea_ of having it is hard; the reality of  _living_ it is so much worse.

He strangles a sob against a pillow, crushing it against his chest.  The scope of loss is breathtaking.  

In another timeline, in another universe, both parents attended his graduation.  Hugged him.  Let him be a part of their  _family_.

He's sobbing when Joe enters his room and sits on the bed beside him. Joe hugs him; Barry hugs his own ribs, trying not to fall apart.

"It was just a dream."

There's no way to put any of it into words, so Barry doesn't try.

"It's okay," Joe tells him. "It's okay."

The pain in his chest is unbearable.  Sitting still is even worse.  So he draws in a sharp breath and says in a strangled voice, "I've got to take a run."  And then he's gone.

. o . 

When he runs, it's easier to bear, like the two selves he knows merge: the present one, the future one. The future one understands him.  Grieves for him.  But there was absolution in his gaze when he looked at Barry and held up a hand, shaking his head.

Barry couldn't disobey him.

So he let his mother die to save the future.

Barry runs as far as he can, as fast as he dares, aware that he leaves glass-shattering  _booms_ in his wake. He switches paths, veers out into the open countryside instead, tries to forget it all. To outrun what he can't bear to live.

It used to feel like the worst thing that could happen to him was being powerless to save his mom, his  _future_.

Now he knows that isn't true.

The worst thing is seeing what  _could have been_ , to see them alive and happy and well. To see a life that Dr. Harrison Wells – the Reverse Flash – Eobard Thawne never broke.

He runs until his feet hurt.  Until his chest aches.  And then he turns and runs back to Central City before dawn breaks.

 _Easy, slugger_ , his dad tells him, slowing him to a jog.  _You don't want to overdo it_.

There's something strange about his future self, something hard to define. Like he isn't quite  _Barry_. Like he's someone else.

_We are different people._

_We became different people the night Mom died_.

Joe was still family, but he wasn't  _Dad_.

And Barry had a quiet but absolute sense that Cisco and Caitlin weren't a part of that future.

He gets to Star Labs and he's fine, he's  _fine._ It's easier to focus on the next meta-human outbreak  than try to voice his emotions.

At some point between  _here's what we've got_ and  _here's what we don't know_ , Cisco claps him on the back.  Barry's aware that his touch lingers just a fraction of a second too long.  It's an involuntary reaction that wouldn't be noticed by someone with slower reflexes.

He notices. And Cisco does, too.

Barry can see his future self, see  _the Flash._ His uniform is brighter, a reflection of everything about his future, and there's a Flash Day there, too, except the Barry of that lifetime doesn't hesitate to accept the key to the city, walks up to the podium with strong steps, knowing his parents are in the crowd, that the entire city is his to protect, and he  _is_ an Atlas, strong enough to protect them.

Except with every step he becomes aware of a debilitating pain.  It's pain he doesn't understand.  Pain he's never experienced before.  Pain that originates back at one source: the Reverse Flash.  There's a throb in Barry's right hip.  It's a phantom reminder of an injury he never experienced. 

As he stumbles Cisco calls out to him, "Barry?" just before he goes down.

(And oh, the pain is sharper here, a lot sharper.  He's trying to stop him, but the Reverse Flash is relentless, impossible to catch.  No matter how fast Barry gets he never seems to get any  _faster._ He peaks and then plateaus, never finding the right motivation to run  _faster_. He has to stop the Reverse Flash, but more and more quasi-permanent injuries accumulate.  Victory becomes Pyrrhic.)

 _You need to be careful._  (Dad is strong, authoritative.  Barry rotates his left shoulder, trying to keep the muscles strong, the joints mobile.  He's only half-listening.)  _You can't beat this guy. The police will find a way to catch him. Focus on what you can beat. Don't fall for his distractions._

 _They're not distractions_. (Doesn't even sound like his voice.  It's sand-paper raw, deep.  He feels like he's nursing cracked ribs.  When he focuses on them, he remembers falling out of a three-story window.  In a chase he never actually participated in.)  _More people are going to die if I don't stop them._  (Like Cisco. Like Caitlin.)

(The bedroom dissolves.  Now he's standing in the streets, bleeding from the mouth.  It's hard to distract the Reverse Flash, but there are civilians in the area.  Barry  _cannot_  let them become collateral damage.  He's lost too many people already.)

 _You can't stop me_. (The Reverse-Flash rushes up him and breaks Barry's arm as casually as shaking his hand. Barry's groan is soft, abbreviated, almost dulled to the pain.) I'm _the fastest man alive._

(The Reverse Flash throws him and Barry tumbles, hitting the cement with a muffled cry.  Fire burns through his veins as he pushes up to his knees. Fury is overtaking the pain: fury at his own helplessness, at the Reverse Flash's  _power._ Then he's not on the ground but up and running, running, running as  _hard_ and  _fast_ as he can, because he refuses to live like this, refuses to let  _anyone_ live like this.)

 _You can't beat me_. (The Reverse Flash vanishes and reappears behind him. Barry dodges a world-ending swipe, recovers, charges again.)  _You will_ never  _beat me._  (He grunts hard as the Reverse Flash punches him in the stomach, and he can tell that it's bad. He needs to back out, get help, but the pain is only making it worse, the fire, the rage, the fury.)

 _I can_. (He's coughing blood.  He must look like death; he feels it, feels it coming like the air seeping out of his lungs. Barry knows that this isn't the end of the Reverse Flash, this is the  _beginning._ If Barry isn't there to stop him no one will survive.)

(The Reverse Flash ignores him and takes off, coming to a halt maybe a hundred yards away.  Barry knows what he's about to do.  He knows the Reverse Flash intends to use the same lightning that gave Barry his speed.  It's blurred as the Reverse Flash begins to run, to conjure a bolt, to take over his world.)

_Run._

_RUN, BARRY, RUN._

(The voice from nowhere propels him and he's moving.  There's a beat and Barry sees himself dead: a bolt of lightning cuts through him, killing him.  Refusing to die, he crashes into the Reverse-Flash as fast as he can _._ )

(Then time does not exist.  Barry doesn't know what's happening, neither of them do, present-Barry, past-Barry, future-Barry.  Reference points don't exist in a timeless universe.)

(Entangled, they crash into Barry's old living room and he can  _feel_ the storm about to unfold.)

(The Reverse Flash isn't going to kill Barry. He's going to kill Barry's eleven-year-old self. Prevent him from ever becoming the Flash. Hurt  _a lot_ more people.  People that the Flash won't ever save because he won't be  _alive_ to save them.  He'll disappear from existence.)

(Barry can't let that happen, so he ignores the pain.  Ignores everything except the lightning.  Even when the Reverse Flash smashes him against the walls, he fights.  Ignores the blood that paints the room.  Ignores the way that somewhere he's gone critical.  That he's going to die.)

(There's a brief instant when he looks up and see a blur.  A red blur that looks exactly like him except it's standing behind a doorway and it's him, it's  _Barry_.)

 _Don't do it_.

(Barry of the future, Barry of the past: they're the _same person_.  Barry is aware of both of them: one in the center, one behind the door.  And he can feel the way that the petrified Barry hiding behind the door isn't dying.  How he isn't terrified to sleep.  How he's full of something, life, love, a willingness to survive that the dying Barry  _isn't._ The dying Barry doesn't have it in him anymore; he's not going to be able to run much longer with the pain in his hip, a horrible, driving, agonizing force.)

(So that Barry does the only thing he can: he holds up his hand and shakes his head.  _Don't do it._ )

(And then he sweeps his eleven-year-old self into his arms and takes off.)

(Barry feels his younger self cling, terrified, to the Flash's suit.  He hangs to at it as they run, run, run, as far as Barry can, as far as his legs will take him. He's losing his ground.  He drops his eleven-year-old self maybe fifteen, twenty blocks away.  And then he  _runs back_ , praying that nothing has changed.  Except there's a piercing pain in his chest now, like a heart attack; he can't move.  He can't breathe; he can't think.)

(One Barry weeps over Nora.  A mother that the Barry of the future could not let him save.  It's a future that would undo both of them, allowing a man to change both of their futures forever.

(-the Other Barry feels a cool, clawed hand curl over his shoulder.  Feels something curl Its arms under his shoulders and knees.  He's aware of Its shape, like a speedster, jet-black and looming.  Instinctively, he knows Its name:  _Black Flash_.)

(Then It sweeps him into Its arms and carries him home.)

. o .

"Barry?"

There's a cool hand on his arm, shaking him.  Barry opens his eyes and sees Caitlin and Cisco there, frowning at him, worried. His body aches, but the pain in his hip is dissolving, the future Barry envisioned becoming less real.

"What happened?" he asks, dry, husky, and it feels strange to have a voice. It feels strange to exist. Lying on the gurney, he feels vulnerable. Without that looming specter, he feels like a child in the dark. Somehow expected to navigate the world on his own.

 _I've controlled your life for so long, Barry;_   _what will you do without me?_

"You passed out," Cisco supplies, frowning. "Have you been eating enough? You look really pale."

"Yeah." His voice is still weak and thin, like it doesn't quite belong to him.  Or, rather, he's trying to belong to it again, to remind himself that  _this_ is his life, that he's still alive.

"I got a weird Vibe from you," Cisco admits, folding his arms. "Like there were two of you, but I couldn't see what was happening, it moved too fast."

Barry sits up and lets Caitlin help him, feeling her arm steady him around his back. "Don't ask me to explain it," he says, feeling a grief he can't put it into words. "I can't."

Caitlin rubs his back; Barry thinks he must look bad because even she isn't saying anything.  Not telling him off for not eating enough or prodding him to explain what's _wrong_.

Cisco claps his hands together. Looks between them. Makes a quick decision. "I'm whipping up some normal hot chocolate for the non-speedsters in the room and high-calorie hot chocolate for any speedsters in the room."

For a moment, Barry almost says,  _There's two of us._  But that other Barry is gone, vanished.

He watches Cisco walk away and knows that he's doing him a favor, giving him space.

"Whatever happened," Caitlin tells him, sitting on the bed beside him, "it's okay now."

Barry thinks of Zoom, of the  _Black Flash,_ and thinks of what he's trying to achieve. What he can't sacrifice to achieve it.

 _I died once trying to stop a speedster who still ruined my life_ , he thinks, wrapping his mind around it.  _I won't let it happen again._

. o .

Sipping his drink, Barry receives one moment of clarity.

He thinks of that ache in his hip. ( _The Reverse Flash trapped him, h_ _e_ _broke his pelvis, and it never healed right.  It almost killed him.  It_ should have  _killed him.  But it didn't.  That would have been too fast.  Too easy_ ).  That injury made him stumble in the street, allowing the Reverse Flash to gain the upper hand. It added the faintest limp to his step that would undo him.

On April 25, 2024.

As he faced off against the Reverse-Flash for the last time.

They vanished in a brilliant flash of white light.  But he didn't just take the Reverse Flash and himself down.  He took their whole future.

Barry watches Cisco as he leans over him to show Caitlin his tablet, demonstrating a point. He feels their warmth from their intertwined legs, sprawled on the floor.  He knows, too, that his mom is gone but his dad is still  _here_ , and he has more than that: he has Iris and Joe to go home to.

And at last he thinks: 

_Whatever happens?_

_Everything is going to be okay._


End file.
